


all you need to say to me

by timeladyleo



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: F/M, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 15:55:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13438176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeladyleo/pseuds/timeladyleo
Summary: A series of Carolyn/Herc shorts, written for the 39th Creativity Night.





	1. embarrassed

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to iwanttotieyourshoe/yellowbananaowl for the best CN in months. 
> 
> These are not necessarily linked, but follow a common theme.

She woke up, looked at the time and groaned. She’d slept in for the first time in a long time, and what she really wanted at that second was a strong coffee. She could shout for Arthur, but he had been asleep when they’d got home and she knew he’d ask how the night had gone. 

It had been fantastic, truthfully. Herc had been horribly smarmy and disgustingly knowledgeable about stupid opera, but to her distaste, she had found herself enjoying both it and his company. Even after she had tried to make herself promise not to break at all. 

The kettle always boiled too slowly in the kitchen. She leaned on the counter, glaring at it as though it might go faster if it knew she was furious at it. Her phone buzzed, once, twice. A message, and just the thought that it was from Herc gave her feelings that she wasn't certain were welcome. Or perhaps, just unfamiliar.

Surely it was far too teenage for her to be embarrassed by this sort of thing by now. 

Arthur had left a note on the side, he had gone out for some milk for his cheerios. It was a Saturday, so of course it was cheerio day. She cursed herself for not remembering they’d run out, but rolled her eyes at herself. He was old enough to be able to go to the shop alone, for goodness sake. Get a grip, Carolyn. 

In an attempt to follow through with this and act like an adult, she read the message. _Dog walk later? Thought of some new angles of Rigoletto to tell you about. H._

He was an idiot. She hated him, she did. She texted back at once - _yes. 1pm, sharp._


	2. one missed call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zurich au.

She had promised she would call, or at least answer his. She relived promising it every time her phone rang. In the airport, nodding as he asked, and he smiled as though it was the last time he was ever going to see her. In many ways it felt like it had been. 

It had been months now. they spoke about once a week. And the conversations weren’t what they used to be. The bickering was less, both feeling like they couldn’t because they had to use those few moments to say something important. But Carolyn could never bring herself to, and Herc shied away from it to avoid upsetting her. Instead, they spoke like robots, exchanging a polite conversation about recent goings-on. Like strangers. 

The light on her phone was blinking as she wandered into the kitchen and she wondered what it was for. ‘One missed call: Hercules’, it read, the sharp letters cutting into her, burning from the screen. Buggar. She’d guessed he was going to call today, why hadn’t she taken her phone? 

There was an accompanying voicemail. She let Snoopadoop off her lead and listened. 

“Carolyn. Hope you’re well, pass my love to Arthur. Hope everything’s okay, and the only reason you missed this was trivial. Anyway, just wanted to let you know I’ll be in England in two weeks time. Of course, I’d love to come to Fitton and see you, but, uh, I will understand if you say no. I know things haven’t been… easy. I’m sorry for that. Please just let me know soon, um, even just a text would be nice. I, uh, I hope to see you soon. Bye.”

She could hear the unsaid ‘I love you’ at the end, hanging there in thought but tangled in anxieties. Her immediate thought was _yes, oh god, yes, come to Fitton. I miss you._ But that would be unprofessional, and the idea of admitting how she felt in real words now made the sick feeling swallow her, because she regretted letting Herc leave and admitting that now would be foolish, an counterproductive, and make it look like she'd made a mistake. And maybe the idiot would be stupid enough to give it all up and come back for her. 

She thought that he knew how much she cared, but maybe she had been lax. Maybe she should have told him. Even just that she liked his company. She missed it.  
It only rang once. 

“Herc, you idiot, I will expect you in Fitton as soon as you land.”


	3. music/disease

Slowly, the record rotated; too slow, so the song was drawn out and made time itself run slow. The whole room was drawn out, dim and blue, quiet except for the hushed, slowed soprano. The speaker crackled as though it were aware of the atmosphere. 

Carolyn sat with her book, in the corner of the sofa. She could get up to change the setting, to make the disk revolve as it was meant to, but the strained tones were more likely to summon Herc than melodic ones. Arthur must have been listening to his albums last, they always seemed to be upbeat with a slow revolution. Herc would change the setting when he came in. He always wanted opera perfect, and this would annoy him just right. 

Minutes passed. Carolyn turned the pages, not so lost in the story that she lost track of everything, but engaged enough that she read a sizeable amount before realising the woman had stopped and the only noise in the room was the gentle crackle of the speaker, like a fire, spitting as it burned, unable to play anything because it had reached the end. At the end of the fire was ash, and silence. At the end of a record was just noise. 

Where was her bookmark? She reached out to the table, and then - where was Herc? He was supposed to have sped it up. It should have been over minutes, minutes ago. She should have told him to come here, to turn off the noise. She stood. She reached down to uncase another record, more opera, more warbling. This time it would work, he would come for the bait. She knew it. 

She blinked open her eyes.

The sun was coming in through the slit in the curtains and the room was yellow. Her book was on the floor, page lost. Herc slept in his hospital bed, looking peaceful enough. He would be well, soon, she had been promised that. Whether he wanted her to or not, whether she would admit why or not, she was staying right here. She wouldn’t leave him.


	4. duty/bear

Carolyn frowned at the sea of red numbers before her. Everyone seemed to think that running an airline was a way into big money, but it had just crippled her. No, she could not even keep her airline - aeroplane - flying when she paid ridiculously low wages to her pilots and charged a regular amount to passengers. 

Damn her plane! Damn her stupid, stupid idea, and her ridiculous fear that not being this meant she was nothing. When what she was now was an old woman with a plane, and debt, and a son who lived at home. Not that she’d trade Arthur for the world. Gordon could have the sodding plane, he could have the house and the car and everything, but he couldn’t have Arthur. 

By god, she did everything for Arthur. Nothing came before him. She never wanted him to feel like her burdens were his fault, or something he should ever think about. And so she had taken all the responsibility and carried it, carried it across the world and back. And it was heavy. 

At least the fear that Gordon was going to come and get them had gone. It had been years now, and though he still called and it still made her shake, she was better. So much better without him, even as she felt like keeping going was self-sabotage. If she kept going, that was a middle finger to him, which was at least something. 

Better to bear this alone, to set her whole world on fire with her own petrol than let him have any influence ever again. Better to watch everything burn, as long as she had Arthur with her. No aeroplane was worth losing him.


	5. bus

Could this driver even drive? It was like he was on the right side of the road, which was wrong. The low autumn sun made the chipped yellow poles in the bus look more orange, and the blue seats looked less worn. Carolyn sat at the back, like always, in the corner of the 19, heading into town to meet her friends. She'd be early, but she didn't mind hanging about by herself, watching the cars splash past. 

She was young, and though the bus jolted her, she smiled. It was empty anyway, no-one ever used this route at the times she did, and that's how she liked it. Sometimes the old couple from number 9 headed into town for their carrots, but their conversation was usually gentle enough that it didn’t interrupt Carolyn watching out the window. They bickered gently about dinner, and she imagined herself as them, how she would be, years, years from now. 

She thought a lot on buses. She watched the planes, and wondered what it might be like to be there. Would she want to fly? Not if there were as many bumps as there were in the road.

She could see the buses from the plane. The road was potholed, still, she still remembered the route and traced it out in her head, thinking through the window. The sky was smooth, but life had not been. No amount of bus trips could have prepared her for the ups and downs. Indeed, a plane dropping out of the sky might have been a more apt metaphor, but she was here now and there were few clouds. Gerti too looked more handsome in the orange sun, the light washing over her wings as they cut through the cloud. This plane, this stupid, wonderful plane had been more faithful than most people Carolyn had known. Though the old girl was falling apart, that wasn’t too unfamiliar. She and Gerti would look after each other, that much was true.

The girl on the bus reached up for the bell. Her nails were shirt, some bitten, but it wasn't like anyone noticed, or if they did, they never got distracted by them. Carolyn knew some people found her attractive, but she didn't care. Happy to break their hearts. 

She rang the bell, and the echoes lasted, bouncing around the bus, and in the skull of the woman watching from the plane as the sun went red, and set.


End file.
